Real Good Thing
by smc-27
Summary: He hangs up the phone after a call he hadn't been expecting, and he wishes that he was with her, gazing into her eyes and seeing the look on her face as she'd said those words to him. "I'm having your baby, Lucas Scott." LP Oneshot. Lucas POV.


**A/N:** I am battling a severe case of insomnia, which isn't fun. But it means you guys get to read lots, because I write when I can't sleep!

How good was last night's episode!? Amazing, I know. Here's Lucas' POV. Let me know what you think!

**----**

He hangs up the phone after a call he hadn't been expecting, and he wishes, now more than ever, that he was with her, gazing into her eyes, and seeing the look on her face as she'd said those words to him. The ones she was no doubt terrified to say, but simply couldn't wait to.

He's frozen for a moment, thinking - knowing - that he's about to cry. He's her 'baby daddy'. He's her fiancé, and the man she loves, and the one who gets to hold her and the one she calls in tears to tell him that now, he's the father of her child. _Their_ child.

If you'd asked him 8 months ago if this was even a possibility, he would have scoffed and called you crazy. He would have spouted off about being over her and done with her and said that they were never meant to be. But he'll never be. And he isn't. And they are.

Just thinking that makes the tears fall from his eyes, and if he wasn't so damn happy, he might have tried to stop them. But he doesn't care. He briefly thinks about the moments of his life that have made him the happiest, and this one tops that ever-growing list. No championship game, no declaration of feelings long felt, no sibling's or nephew's births, no whirlwind proposal or almost elopement even compares to this feeling.

He remembers back to high school, his first girlfriend - his first lover - and that feeling of too much, too soon. 17 and terrified beyond belief, and tears of fear and disappointment and complete uncertainty. Impending fatherhood before he even knew what any of that meant or what he was supposed to be before his life took that unexpected turn and threatened to change it all.

But this is different. This is thrilled and ready and meant to be. This is the way it's supposed to feel.

This is perfect.

This is _Peyton_.

He doesn't know how to be a father, and maybe she worries that she doesn't know how to be a mother, but they'll do it together and figure it out. They'll ask for help if and when they need it, but he'll never have to worry about being alone again and neither will she, and if he knows nothing else, he knows that no one will ever love a child as much as he'll love his child.

He spends the rest of the evening unable to sleep and wondering if he can just blow off everything else he's supposed to be in town for and head home to her, where he'll find her sleeping in his bed - _their_ bed. His surprise would pale in comparison to the one she bestowed upon him, but he aches for her. Physically, can hardly bare to be away from her.

And L.A. has never felt as empty as it does now. He's never been here without her, and it dawns on him that he doesn't want to be here, or anywhere else, without her ever again. The movie business has been interesting and a little exciting, but he'd trade it all, gladly, for a life that left him writing in solitude until she burst through the door like a tornado after her day at the office, and smiled that smile that he knew was reserved only for him.

When he calls her back to ask the question he asked at least a half dozen times during that original call - _are we really having a baby?_ - she laughs and he can picture her, face stained with tears of joy that he's happy to have had a part in putting there. It's far too late an hour, even for him, and he knows from the time difference and the sexy rasp in her voice that he's woken her, but when he apologizes, she assures him that it's OK and that she's too excited and she misses him and she can't really sleep without him anyway.

And so he's _this_ close to packing his things hastily and heading to the airport and getting on the next plane home, but she tells him that it's only a few more hours, and she'll be waiting, and he's sure he's never heard a promise as amazing as that one.

He tells her he loves her for what seems like the millionth time that night, not that she'd complain, and she says the words back and he cries again, knowing those words were what got them here in the first place; expectant parents, both happier than either could have ever imagined.

He says her name softly one last time and when he hears the break in his own voice, he realizes that he's never cried in front of her, not really. He's been hurt and broken and terrified, but he's never cried in front of her. But if this isn't the best time to end that streak, he's not sure what is. He sniffles and she whispers the shortened form of his name for no reason other than it feels good to do it and she knows he needs to know she hears his emotion.

He says he'll let her get some rest. She makes him promise to call before he gets on the plane and he when he laughs, she says that now he has a reason to get home in one piece. He tells her that he already had one.

He doesn't sleep a wink but he doesn't care, and when he's throwing the last of his things into his bag, he realizes that his cheeks hurt from the smile that hasn't left his face since that first call with her the night before. That smile quickly fades when _he_ calls and makes demands that he'd really love to ignore, but knows he can't.

He briefly wonders if the man is just trying to take advantage of his absence in the town, but that thought quickly fleas his mind when he remembers that he has her. She fought for him and waited for him. She said yes to his proposal, and she's having his baby. Their baby. The smile returns and he agrees to do what's being asked of him, and when he calls Peyton to tell her that he'll be later than he was supposed to be because of some meeting that Julian's insisting he takes, she sneers and mutters something about giving the guy a piece of her mind or her fist, and he laughs again at that spirit in her that he loves. She says_ I'll see you soon_ and he says _not soon enough_, and he hears that laugh she always lets out when he's being a dork.

The meeting is strange and uncomfortable and a difficult reminder of the life she led in this city without him. This man knows her and witnessed the relationship she had with the man he hates, but when he tells Lucas that she's a good girl, he smiles again, knowing that it's the truth. It's an understatement, but it's the truth. He wonders if she's ever sat in this office. Wonders if maybe she ever sat in the chair he's sitting in, or if maybe she drank from the glass he's drinking from, and he tunes out the words he knows he should be listening to.

In the end, he finds himself defending Julian, and he's not entirely sure what makes him do it. He didn't expect the first person he told about the baby to be this man, but as the word father rolls off his tongue, it becomes more real and he doesn't regret it at all.

Perhaps there's an unspoken understanding of that feeling his mother used to tell him about; that fierce protectiveness that only a parent can have for a child, and all the new hopes and worries and dreams you get when you realize that you'll be leaving your mark on the world in such a perfect and precious way.

He hits traffic on the way to the airport, of course, and though he knows that it won't help because the plane will still leave at the same time no matter how soon he gets there, he curses and balls his fists.

Sitting in the cold, hard plastic of the familiar seats in this airport he's sat in so many times before, he wished he'd taken time to buy her something, instead of just impatiently waiting for his flight to be called. He wishes he'd bought her the perfect ring; the one she didn't have yet, and said she didn't need. He wishes he'd bought a stone he knew she would have loved.

Maybe he wishes that he'd talked to his mother and asked for the ring Keith had given her. He knows about the lie Peyton told his former fiancée. She'd told him, on that flight back to Tree Hill from this very city, that she'd told the woman that the ring had been his mother's, just to keep her from doubting that Lucas wanted to marry her and no one else. It had struck him then, just how much she was willing to sacrifice for him. He'd never make her have to do that again.

He has nothing for her. No ring, no gift, and she's sitting at home with the best one he'll ever receive nestled inside her.

But he realizes that the beauty of their relationship is that they don't need gifts. They don't need material things and fancy rings and a big house or flashy cars, because they have each other and now they have their child, and that'll always be enough for both of them.

He still stops and buys a single rose from a vendor before he leaves the airport, and he thinks that just maybe that's the nicest gift he could give her right now. It's understated, but he knows it'll still somehow tell her everything he wants her to know.

He walks through the door and sees her laying there and his breath catches in his throat because she's beautiful and she's perfect and she's so damn cute when she's sleeping and she's all his.

He kneels beside the bed and his hand gravitates to her stomach, as if he needs to introduce himself to their baby, though he knows it's silly to think such a thing, since it's a part of him. She stirs when he kisses her temple, and she smiles before even opening her eyes because she knows it's him. He's home and he loves her, and when she sees that smile on his face, she knows he's happy.

He kisses her stomach and he's not sure if that means more to him or to her, but it doesn't really matter and he knows that.

She calls him _daddy_ for the second time and he has to close his eyes before he looks at her again, trying to make sure this is all real. But it is. He kisses her, and it all has new meaning.

She mutters something about Haley knowing already and he chuckles that she couldn't keep it quiet and that his best friend is too intuitive for her own good.

And he'd love to be mad at her for not telling him about the collapse or the tests she'd had to have done and the fears that it was something really bad instead of so very good, but he just can't. She's the mother of his unborn child. He still makes her promise to tell him everything from now on- every funny feeling or fear or emotion.

It was the two of them, and now it's the three of them, and he doesn't care that they're not married yet and they're young and this was unexpected. He just cares that she's amazing, and that she's been gracious enough, even after everything he's put her through, to let him be the one who gets to experience this all with her.

When he lays down and pulls her into his arms, he knows she'll see the tear that has fallen, and when she brushes it away and says that she's never seen him cry, it makes her cry too, and he smiles because he loves that she knows that.

And when she makes a joke about their child having two big babies for parents, he's pretty sure this moment couldn't be any more perfect.

_**-Fin-**_


End file.
